


There's a Brand New Dance

by RichieBrook



Series: Last Shadow Snippets [6]
Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Alex is bad at communication, Alex loves Miles, M/M, Miles loves Alex, angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichieBrook/pseuds/RichieBrook
Summary: Apparently both Alex and Miles attended the Celine fashion show in Paris the other day. There are no pictures of them together (yet?), so I wrote one. That’s it. That’s the story.





	There's a Brand New Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another little non-story as I needed a break from writing The Galaxy’s Edge. Hope you like it. :) (And as always please feel free to point out any errors! I’m not a native speaker etc. etc. ;) )
> 
> I borrowed the title from Bowie again because apparently instead of making up my own titles I just prefer to scour his lyrics for gems. This one’s from Fashion, because of obvious reasons.

Miles is grinning his trademark toothy grin as he struts towards Alex, confident and charismatic as ever. It’s the after party of the Celine fashion show and all guests have gathered outside, flocking around cocktail tables, excited chatter filling the stifling summer air. The crowd parts to let Miles pass, which makes Alex smile. He, like Miles, is on his own today, leaning against a cocktail table in a far corner of the garden with his phone in his hand. He’s pretending to write a text, but he watches the scene unfold from under his lashes, smiling secretly as Miles makes matters worse by adjusting his jacket by tugging at its lapels. He’s a show-off, and it’s exciting to even just watch him move.

“Al! Hey!” He’s loud as always. Several people look up, which should annoy Alex, because really, he was hoping to keep a low profile today, but it makes him smile instead.

Miles comes to a halt in front of him. This is where he’d usually go in for a hug, but he doesn’t do any such thing this time. Alex is disappointed, but then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s ignored Miles’ texts and calls for a couple of weeks straight. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to Miles. Maybe he’s just been wanting to talk to him a little too badly.

“Were you even going to tell me you’d be here, too?” Miles takes two cigarettes from the packet that Alex silently offers him, handing one to Alex himself. “You could’ve texted me, mate. I was beginnin’ to think you’d forgotten all about me.” He looks Alex up and down shamelessly, but Alex figures that really, he should be the one eyeing up Miles instead. His eyes, accentuated by a thin black line under them, have that eccentric sparkle in them that Alex loves so much, and his leather jacket clings to his frame as if it were made for him. Knowing Miles, it probably was. He looks terrific. He looks happy. Alex rolls the stem of his empty champagne flute between his thumb and forefingers. He’s aware that he should say something, but he doesn’t feel like it. If he could have it his way, he’d kiss Miles instead. It would be a desperate sort of kiss, one that would leave him embarrassed for days to come.

Lucky for him, Miles is of the forgiving sort. “You look so good, Al. It must be nice to finally have some time off,” he says, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder. He’s always touching him, Miles is, and Alex finds himself leaning into that touch as if it were engrained in his system to do so; as if a simple touch is enough to wake up the set of responses his body has reserved for Miles and Miles only. It hasn’t needed those for a while, but it doesn’t seem to have any trouble digging them back up.

“Where’s your girl?” Miles wants to know, slipping the cigarette between his lips and lighting it with his own lighter. There’s virtually no wind, but he still covers his cigarette with one hand as he does so, and Alex catches himself staring as those long fingers, adorned with shiny golden rings, curl and then straighten again. Miles’ question is innocent enough, but his eyes won’t let Alex’s gaze go, and Alex just _knows_ there’s nothing innocent about it in the slightest. He shakes his head, pulling himself from his thoughts. “She’s at home. Working.” His voice is rough with disuse, and he clears his throat. “It’s really good to see ya, Miles. It’s been a while. Don’t get me wrong, eh, I know whose fault that is. But it’s good to see you, is all I’m saying. Sorry.”

Miles shrugs his shoulders. He stops a passing waiter and plucks two glasses of champagne off his full tray, handing one to Alex, who is more than happy to accept. The air suddenly feels much too dense and humid. It’s not helping that it’s sweltering hot outside. His black dress shirt clings to his back uncomfortably, sticky with sweat. He takes an eager gulp of his champagne, making Miles laugh.

“Don’t apologise,” he says. “I’m not worried when you don’t text me back right away. I know you couldn’t fall out of love with me if you tried.” That makes Alex laugh, too, whether he wants to or not. What he likes best about that is that Miles isn’t joking. He takes another sip of his champagne, his shoulders relaxing a little under his friend’s familiar gaze.

“You wanna like – come back to me ‘otel room later?” Miles wants to know, continuing their conversation in that same direct manner. It makes Alex feel more comfortable even as the burning sun beats down on them. “Or is that something we don’t do anymore? I mean, it might be a bit too hot to spend time inside, anyway. Hey. We could go swimming.”

Alex can’t help it. He bursts into laughter, the nervous pressure on his chest disappearing all at once. Miles frowns. Not a joke, then. “You wanna go _swimming_?” Alex asks, finally slipping his own cigarette between his lips and letting Miles light it. “You’re mad. Let’s go to a park and drink cocktails or summat. I’m not going swimming with ya. There’s no way in hell. The last thing I want right now is to be photographed in me swimming trunks again.”

“What? You looked _good_ , love.”                                   

“You saw those?” Alex shakes his head. “Fuckin’ ‘ell. Doesn’t matter if I look good or not, does it. That’s not the point. I just don’t – I don’t feel like being photographed. Let’s just hide somewhere together.” He takes a tentative step forward. He wants to touch Miles’s wrist, or touch his hair, but he’s not about to do so in public. It’s not because he’s ashamed of being seen with Miles. He’s simply ashamed of being seen, period. Everyone looks at him and thinks he’s that guy from Arctic Monkeys, but it’s not like he’s working right now. He’s just a guy. He’s just a guy looking for a good time.

Miles considers it. “That why you watched the show from backstage, too? Just because you didn’t want to be seen? Why did you even come? No one made you, you know. I know you feel like it’s your responsibility to attend these things, but you’re allowed a break, Aly.”

Alex shrugs his shoulders.

“And now you want to go have cocktails in a park? Where literally half the city will be?”

Alex smiles wearily. “It sounded nice in me head is all. Do you have a better plan?”

“I do, actually, yes,” Miles says. He holds his hand out for Alex’s phone and when Alex hands it over, he unlocks it, barely looking at the screen as he punches in the correct code. “This is where I’m staying,” he says, typing in the address. “I’ll go buy us ingredients to make margaritas, and we can hang out on the balcony, yeah? And you should probably text your girl to let her know you won’t be coming home tonight.”

“Miles.” Alex shakes his head. “I can’t. Not this time.”

“Don’t you want to?” Miles digs his room key up from his back pocket and holds it out for him, unfazed by Alex’s reluctance. They’ve been here before. They both know how it’s going to end.

“That’s not relevant.” Alex slips the key into his own pocket. “I can’t always just do whatever it is that I want. I’d be in –  ” He stops himself, and Miles smiles knowingly. “What do I even tell her?” he murmurs, before taking a deep drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke to the side, away from Miles’ face, even though they’re both smoking.

“Tell her whatever,” Miles mutters. “You’ll think of something. You always do. Just come have a break at mine tonight.” He tucks the phone into Alex’s breast pocket, patting it with a mischievous grin on his face. He’s suddenly standing much too close for comfort. Sweat trickles down the back of Alex’s neck and he blames the fact that it must be over 30 degrees where they’re standing. Miles, in his leather jacket, seems completely unaffected. He’s calm and collected. Unwavering and absolutely unapologetic. He’s not much taller than Alex, but he _seems_ taller today. It makes Alex’s heart speed up. He knows Miles and he knows exactly what kind of mood he’s in. He knows perfectly well that if he agrees to going to Miles’ hotel room (and he will), he’ll be the one taking whatever Miles wants to give him tonight instead of vice versa. He likes it both ways, but it makes him feel embarrassingly weak in the knees to have Miles tower over him like this, offering him a real break, a secret hideout in an anonymous hotel room.

Alex’s gaze flashes over his friend’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching. No one seems to be paying them any attention and it’s really fucking hard – hell, it’s _impossible_ – to push Miles away. He smells like home. And it’s very convenient that he’s more or less blocking Alex from everyone’s sight. It makes Alex feel like he can breathe again. He blames the champagne for what he does next. Leaning forward a little, he curls a hand around Miles’ side, under his leather jacket, and squeezes gently. “I’ll text her,” he murmurs, and then, as if that simple move opened the floodgates: “But make it worth me while, yeah? I want – If we’re doing this, I want to end up feeling like me brain fell out of me head. I want you right – ” He tugs Miles closer with the hand around his side, “I want you right here, this close, all the time. I want you to tire me the fuck out, yeah? I’ll do whatever you want. Just – take charge. Don’t let me think, eh?”

Miles’ eyes darken visibly. He brings one hand up to swipe his thumb over Alex’s bottom lip and Alex draws a breath. His skin feels like it’s vibrating. But then Miles pulls back altogether. “Not that I don’t think you’re really hot right now,” he says, “but if this is you telling me that you’re not okay, you might want to consider trying again.”

Alex shakes his head quickly. “That’s not – I’m genuinely okay,” he says. “I’m fine. I’ve been feelin’ a bit low lately, is all. And I’ve been thinking about you. I’m just really fucking relieved to see you, Miles. I was hoping you’d be here. I really was, you know?”

Miles does a terrible job at hiding another smug grin. “Well, then. Today’s your lucky day,” he says, stepping back and giving Alex some breathing space. Miles stubs out his cigarette and smiles. “So. I’m going to say my goodbyes and head to the shops. You just go straight to the hotel, okay? I’ll take care of everything and I’ll see you there.” And with that and a last smug little look, Miles turns and starts leaving the garden.

Alex smiles, too. Truth be told, Miles is not the only one feeling pleased with himself. He’s oddly relieved and the weight of Miles’ hotel key sits comfortably against his chest. Alex puts on his sunglasses, stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and is about to finish the rest of his champagne when Miles suddenly stops in his tracks and turns around, catching Alex mid-smile. Before Alex realises what’s happening, Miles has strode back over to him and is standing in his personal space once more.

“You _knew_ I’d be here,” he says, and it’s not a question. He arches his eyebrows and Alex can see the exact moment when realisation dawns on him. “ _That’s_ why you didn’t want to tell me why you decided to come to this despite your, ” he waves his hand about, “ _reluctance_ to be in the public eye. You’re not here because you felt like you had to show your face. You knew I was going to be here, didn’t you, you smug bastard?”

Alex presses his lips together in a failed attempt to hide a guilty smile. “Oh, I knew,” he admits, staring at Miles chest rather than looking him in the eye. “I was told you’d be here. Apparently it’s common knowledge how to convince me to attend things.”

Miles stares at him. “You could’ve just texted me back, you know. We could’ve met up.”

Alex shrugs his shoulders. He feels suddenly uncomfortable. He sips his champagne, just to have something to do. “I – yeah. But I thought you might be angry, didn’t I. I wanted to at least be able to say hello. In real life. Face to face, like. I wanted to see what I’ve been missing out on. And I _have_ been missing out.”

Miles nods once, but doesn’t say anything. There’s no snide remark, no joke. For the first time, he even looks a little insecure. But it’s only there for a split second, before he collects himself. “Right,” he says. “So. Margaritas. I’ll meet you at the hotel, okay? Make yourself at home and all. Feel free to change into something more comfortable. My suitcase is under the bed. You can borrow whatever, except for the Beatles button-up that’s in there. I’m familiar with your definition of borrowing, and I’d like to hold onto that one.”

Alex smiles fondly despite the sudden turn of their conversation. “No borrowing the Beatles shirt. Got it. I’ll see you there. And thanks, Miles. For whatever this is.”

Miles nods once more, curious eyes lingering on Alex’s face one last time before he resolutely turns around and disappears inside. Alex stays right where he is and lights another cigarette. He’s not feeling all that self-satisfied anymore. He feels caught, dirty even. But most of all, he feels like tonight may end up being a night to remember. 


End file.
